Vicarious
by claw06
Summary: After the explosion at the CDC, Daryl and Shane find themselves separated from the group and forced to survive together. Can they put aside their differences in order to survive and maybe even find...love?
1. Chapter 1

**Summary: After the explosion at the CDC, Daryl and Shane find themselves separated from the group and forced to survive together. Can they put aside their differences in order to survive and maybe even find...love?**

 **Warning: Torture! (in later chapters); Sane-er! Shane; Past-Abuse; Daryl; OOC!NESS; AU! SHANE NEVER DIED; Also Shane doesn't kill Otis,**

 **Disclaimer: Don't own.**

 **CHAPTER ONE**

The farm was gone.

Flames engulfed both the barn and the house, roaring and fierce against the beautiful night sky. Walkers snarled and groaned as they flooded the yard but and he knew that he should be moving but he was frozen, hovering just out of their sights on the edge of the forest, crystalline blue eyes locked on the chaos before him. It felt as if he was seven years old again hiding in the woods around his home as his mother screamed and burned alive inside it. He could almost feel the scorching heat of the flames, hear her high pitched screams of agony and terror flooded him.

"Dixon! Come on man, we gotta get outta here!"

Daryl jerked, coming back into himself as Shane's voice penetrated the haze that had overtaken his mind. He turned to face the man, who was staring at him with panic in his dark eyes.

"We ain' gonna be able to reach the others in this mess." He observed softly.

Rick and the others had taken off already, the only reason he and Shane hadn't was because they'd been out hunting when this all had started. Rick had seen it as a way of forcing them to get along, while keeping them both safe, so Shane had been his "hunting buddy" off and on for the past week or so.

Shane nodded and they ducked back a bit so that their presence was completely masked from the walkers around them.

"So...any plans?"

Daryl narrowed his eyes, glancing back at the barn.

"That cabin we found when we were searchin' for So- the lil' girl ain' too far from here. We shoul' be able to reach it wit no pro'lems."

Shane nodded again, following the smaller man deeper into the forest. They traveled silently, eyes peeled and weapons at ready, as they moved through the foliage. What seemed like moments later, they found themselves standing in front of their destination, the night eerily silent around them. They quickly cleared it, then boarded themselves inside.

Shane sighed, pacing anxiously.

"Fuck. Fuck, Fuck,Fuck! What are we gonna do? How the hell are we gonna find the others?"

Daryl shrugged silently,watching as the other man wore himself out cursing and pacing. The former deputy glared at his lack of response, lips twisting into a fierce snarl.

"I doubt you even care! You were gonna leave anyways so it don't really matter, do it?" He snapped and the archer forced himself not to flinch.

He'd never done well with raised voices, it never bode well for him. Instead he shook his head at the raging man and settled down in the corner furthest from him and waited patiently for him to run out of steam. It was a practice he'd often used with Merle when he acted the same way, one that unfortunately hadn't really worked with his old man, but seemed to work with Shane.

The dark haired man shot him one more glare then went back to his ranting, hands moving in wild gestures that seemed to go with his words. Finally, after what seemed like hours, he calmed and took a seat beside Daryl, exhaustion clear in his eyes.

"What a fucking mess." He lamented, running a hand through his hair irately, before turning to the silent hunter beside him.

"You have any supplies?"

His companion shook his head. "All my supplies was in my tent. Just got my bow, my knife, an' the clothes on my back."

Shane groaned. " Same. Just got my gun and what I'm wearing. Rick had the shot gun. Looks like we're gonna have to start from square one."

Daryl pursed his lips.

He and Shane barely got along at the best of times. Even on these forced hunting trips him and the deputy were always arguing and fighting. The man was too hot-headed and volatile and honestly, anything could set him off. It made the hunter wary of their current predicament and he couldn't help but wonder just how long they would last before killing each other.

Shane having similar thoughts groaned again and leaned his head ack against the wall with a thud.

"I'll take first watch. Get some sleep."

Daryl sent him an uncomfortable look.

Did the bastard actually expect him to fall asleep with him sitting so close? He barely trusted the man enough to let him stand behind him on a hunt yet here the man was asking him to go to sleep with him sitting beside him, so close their arms brushed against each other with their every movement.

"What?" The ex-cop asked, seeing the younger man's discomfort and Daryl stood.

"Nuthin'."He replied, moving to the corner directly opposite of the former deputy. He settled in to it, then curled in on himself and fell asleep without another word.

 *****SHANYL*****

Shane frowned as he stared at the sleeping hunter in the corner across from him, pondering the situation they now found themselves in.

He and Daryl didn't get along at the best of times, and while he knew it was mostly his fault he still couldn't help but blame it on the younger man. The hunter was so taciturn and quiet and when he did speak he was gruff and closed off, hardly making an effort to integrate himself into the group. Even before, when Merle was still with them, he'd barely made an effort to get comfortable with the group, spending most of his time in the woods hunting or near the tent he and his brother had shared. It was frustrating as hell.

Still, Dixon knew these woods better than anyone else in their little ragtag group so he was kinda glad that he was stuck with him out of everyone. It meant he had a better chance of surviving. He sighed again, thoughts drifting to the rest of the group.

They'd been gone when him and Daryl had arrived at the farm and he hoped everyone was alright, even Rick. While being forced to go hunting with Dixon he'd thought long and hard about the conflict of him, Rick, and Lori. He had honestly believed that Rick was dead before he started sleeping with Lori. The day after arriving in the quarry, the woman had crept into his tent seeking comfort and being that he was terrible at feeling he'd provided it the only way he knew how. Afterwards, when she'd fallen to sleep, he'd broken down crying feeling as if he'd betrayed his best friend, his brother in all but blood. He prayed, begging his brother for forgiveness for both sleeping with his widow and for enjoying it. Over time, his trysts with Lori had become...comforting in a way. They were the closest he could get to his brother and after every time he had begged his forgiveness.

Then Rick came back.

Rick came back, alive and healthy and he was no longer needed. Lori looked at him with disgust, as if he'd purposely lied about the death of the one man he saw as family just to get in her pants. She snarled at him and cursed at him, seemingly forgetting that she'd initiated the entire thing and he found himself lost and confused.

He knew he had to let her go, had to let her and Rick be happy, but it seemed so hard and he didn't want to be alone again so he'd tried to hold on. He'd almost become the one thing he didn't want to be. He'd almost raped her and he couldn't forgive himself for letting it get that far.

The incident at the CDC had forced him to step back and reevaluate the entire situation. He'd started to see just how horrible he wa becoming so he started trying to withdraw from her, from the madness she inspired in him and it worked. It worked!

He no longer felt the horrible, homicidal rage that used to engulf him every time he saw her and Rick embrace. He no longer felt those impulses to do things he knew he'd never would've thought of doing before. He felt like himself again for the first time since the day Rick was shot.

He hadn't even freaked out on Rick when the man had confronted him. He had explained as best as he could and although the man had been upset, he'd actually accepted him. He hadn't been angry with him or hated him like Lori had said he would.

He smiled slightly, focusing his mind on the present, his gaze moving to the archer sleeping across from him.

The others would be alright.

They had to be.

 **TBC...**

 **A/N: So I couldn't figure out how to end this chapter and well yeah. you can see I took quite a few liberties with Shane's character, but its my first time writing him as a main character so please be gentle. Tell me what you think. :-)**


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter Two**

Shane and Daryl were gone.

Rick's heart clenched painfully in his chest as he noticed the two glaring abscences among his people. His best friend and his confident, both were gone and he couldn't help the guilt nagging in the pit of his stomach.

After everything both me had done for him, he'd left them behind like they didn't mean anything. They hadn't even left them a sign to alert them to which direction they'd gone, just a burning farmhouse and a field full of walkers. Even Merle's bike, the only thing Daryl had left of his missing brother had been left behing on the farm while his truck had been used as transport for what little supplies they'd managed to scavenge in their hurry to escape.

"They're okay."

He turned, sad cerulean blue eyes meeting Hershel's steady chocolate ones. The older man had spoken with such certainty that he found himself wanting to believe it...but he couldn't.

Even though Shane and Daryl were the strongest men he knew, he was also well aware that neither man was invincible. And even if they had managed to escape there was still the fact that they'd have to depend on each other to survive and he wasn't sure if they'd be able to do so without killing each other. He knew that even on the hunting trips he forced them on, they fought like cats and dogs. They were just too different and both was just as stubborn as the other, neither willing to back down if the other started an argument.

"They're okay." Hershel repeated and Rick sighed.

"Yeah...but for how long?"

"That depends on them."

* * *

Daryl pursed his lips thoughtfully as he watched Shane sleep, having taken over the watch halfway through the night.

He couldn't help but wonder how a man so loud and aggressive when awake could be so quiet and innocuous when asleep. Merle, who was alot like the former deputy in terms of personality, was always loud no matte if he were asleep or not. When he was awake, he was always yelling or jeering , always in motion and when he was asleep he tended to toss and turn, snoring or sleep talking all the while.

It was disconcerting to see Walsh do the opposite.

The former deputy slept alot like Daryl himself did, muscles loosely coiled in case he had to fight when he awoke and breaths silent, so as not to draw attention of those around him. Not a murmur nor a snore left his lips and he never moved from where he'd settled when he'd laid down to rest.

The archer frowned, bringing his thumb to his lips as his thoughts drifted to the predicament they'd found themselves in.

They'd been separated from Rick and the other with nothing but the clothes on their back and the weapons they'd left with for their hunt. In addition to that, he'd dropped their catch from the day before in his haste to escape both the flashback plaguing his senses and the smell of burning wood and rotting flesh, so he'd have to hunt before the day was up.

In addition, he had to think about how he and Walsh were going to survive being around each other with no one around to mediate. He could freely admit that part of the reason they didn't get along was because of the differences in their personalities but a larger part of the tension between them stemmed from the fact that Shane was too much like Merle and their Pa for him to be comfortable around him. He was too hot headed and aggressive, always ready for a fight and willing to start one when he couldn't find one and any disagreement with him seemed to be blown entirely out of proportion.

Of course, Daryl was a survivalist and he knew that realistically in order for them to have even a small chance at surviving they needed to work together, differences or not.

A quiet groan left the deputy, drawing Daryl from his thoughts and he watched silently as the man stretched and turned to face him.

"Any trouble?"

He shook his head. "Was a quiet night." He paused meeting the older man's dark eyes.

"We ain't gonna be able to stay here long. They're gettin' closer."

Shane frowned, all signs of sleep vanishing from his stern visage.

"How long?"

Daryl thought carefully, brow furrowing slightly.

"Two days at the longest. Heard a herd of 'em not far from 'ere a few hours ago but it bypassed us completely and headed in the direction of the farm."

Shane's frown deepened.

"We'll rest today and move tomorrow night. In the mean time, we need food."

Nodding, the archer stood and grabbed his crossbow, causing his companion to scowl.

"Where are you going?"

"We need food and you can't hunt to save your life."

Shane grabbed his wrist roughly and he fought a flinch.

"We need to stay together."

He jerked away from him. "We _need_ food." He snarled , before spinning on his heel and stalking out the door, leaving the man fuming furiously behind him.

* * *

Shane scowled darkly as he stared at the man in front of him, still fuming from their confrontation a few hours previous.

Dixon had returned only three hours after storming out of their hide-out with three squirrels and a large rabbit tied to his belt. The man hadn't spoken to him upon returning, instead he'd settled in front of the fire and started skinning his kills, ignoring Shane as if he weren't even there and it was pissing him off. He knew he shouldn't have gotten so aggressive with the hunter when the man had tried to leave but he was terrified. Their only chance at surviving was if they were together and deep down he was afraid that he'd be left to survive alone. He'd always had Rick or Lori, he'd never had to be alone and he didn't want to start now. However, he didn't want to show Daryl any of this so he'd tried to cover it up with anger, yet the man had lashed out at him.

Even now the archer was ignoring him, cooking a stew made from a few cans of vegetables they'd found while searching the house, in a battered pan they'd found in one of the cabinets.

Daryl glanced up at him furtively, then ducked his head.

"Food's done." He announced softly and Shane sighed grabbing one of the tin cans full of stew.

"Thank you." He said grudgingly and the hunter nodded, eating his own food quietly.

Shane watched him for a moment, then set his can down.

"I'm sorry."

Daryl jerked, startled, looking up at him wide-eyed for a moment before he nodded slowly.

"Don' worry about it."

Shane stared at him for another long moment before nodding and lifting the can to his lips.

 **TBC...**


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter Three**

"We should head to Fort Bennington."

Daryl kept walking, ignoring the man behind him causing said man to scowl darkly. True to the hunter's words they'd stayed in the little cabin for one more night before leaving just before dawn. They'd snuck back to the farm and raided the camp for what little supplies had been left behind then slipped back into the forest heading east. In all that time Daryl had only spoken a maximum of fifteen words to him, five if you didn't count repeats. The man wouldn't even tell him where they were going, keen eyes focused on their surroundings with a single-minded intensity and crossbow slung over his shoulder for easy access. He was silent, a heavy presence with no voice and it was wearing the former deputy thin.

"Don't you ever talk?" He snapped and Daryl glanced at him, thin lips pursed and gaze disapproving.

"Shut up."

Shane stopped and glared at him, feeling his temper rise despite the bland tone the man spoke in. However before he could protest the archer continued.

"If ya hadn' sat there runnin' yer mouth fer tha past twenty min'tes ya'd hear the herd of walkers traveling not too far from us."

The older man narrowed his eyes and listened carefully, trying to hear what the hunter had heard. Moments later he heard it. Faint snarls and groans, dragging footsteps that seemed almost soundless. From the sounds of it, it was a large herd, ten or twenty of them. He glared at his companion, wondering why the hell the man hadn't said anything before. They had to have been following them for a while to get close enough for them to heard them, no matter how faint.

At his glare the hunter scowled and turned to keep walking, footsteps light and silent compared to Shane's muted, heavy footfalls. Shooting him another glare the darker haired man follow, keeping an ear out for more walkers and to gauge how close the herd was to them. After a while he was unable to hear it and he relaxed slightly.

He frowned.

What had just happened was unacceptable. How was he supposed to trust Dixon if the man couldn't even be bothered to warn him if a herd was nearby? How could he trust a man that would willingly ignore any helpful suggestion and leave him vulnerable?

The answer was; He couldn't.

If Daryl couldn't tell him about a walker herd being close enough to them that they could hear it and willingly ignore Shane's suggestion for paradise then he truly didn't know how they would be able to survive together. Daryl's voice broke him from his thoughts.

"We can't go to Fort Bennington. It was overrun at the beginnin' of this shitstorm. Me n' Merle went before tha Emergeny evacuation n' it was a no go. Then we heard 'bout the Atlanta safe-zone n' went to tha quarry."

The former deputy blinked and stared at the man in shock. Not only had that been the most he'd spoken since Shane had met him, but it also explained why Daryl had been one of the most adamant protesters of his plan to go to Fort Bennington and why the archer had ignored him. He sighed, running a hand over his bare head.

"Shit, man. Why didn' ya say nothin' at camp? Woulda made more sense."

The archer ducked his head and shrugged. "Y'all wouldn'a listened. Don' nobody trusts a Dixon but a Dixon."

Something about that response made Shane's heart sting. The fact that he said it with a matter-of-fact tone instead of the wry bitterness he'd expect it to be said in somehow made it worse.

"Rick trusts you."

Daryl snorted and shook his head, shifting his crossbow on his shoulder.

"No 'e don't. 'e just knows I don't have no where else to go. Me n' Merle only joined yer camp because he wan'ed to rob ya. I tol' Rick 'bout 'is plan when we couldn't find him on the roof. I was gonna leave, 'e asked me to stay."

Shane frowned.

"Why did you?"

Daryl fell silent and frowned to himself. "I...I don't really know."

A companionable silence fell over them and they continued forward, eyes and ears peeled for any disturbance in their surroundings. After a while they reached the highway only to find it full of walkers. They shared a glance and shook their heads and ducked back into the forest.

"We need to stick to the trees." Daryl rumbled and Shane nodded, scowling.

"What about shelter?"

Daryl shrugged. "Trees are safe at night. The walkers can't climb. And you c'n always tie yerself down if ya think you'll fall."

Shane pursed his lips but nodded reluctantly, reminding himself that Daryl knew more about the wood than he did.

"What about Rick and the others?"

Daryl shrugged, but a troubled frown crossed his features.

"Hopefully they're able to find some shelter. Winter's comin' soon."

* * *

Rick frowned deeply as he stared out into the forest.

A month had passed since the farm had fallen and since they'd lost Shane and Daryl and with each passing day his hope that they were still alive dwindled. They'd yet to find any sign of other survivors, let alone their missing group members and the others were already disheartened about the two men's survival.

"Rick?" He looked up at the sound of his name, smiling as Carol took a seat beside him.

"How ya holdin' up?" She asked and he sighed.

"I'd just finally gotten Daryl to feel comfortable among us and me and Shane had finally resolved everything, then we lost them."

She nodded and clapped him on the shoulder. "Rick, Daryl and Shane are two of the strongest men I've ever met. Before you came along, Shane managed to keep us all safe and Daryl managed to feed us all with little to no help. If anyone could survive this, its them."

He nodded noncommittally, although his heart wanted to believe her words he just couldn't get himself to do it.

Seeing this she sighed and stood, clapping him on the shoulder again as she did so.

"Get some rest, Rick."

He nodded once more and turned back to the forest, not even watching as she walked away.

Instead he clasped his hands together and prayed his men returned safely.

 **TBC...**


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter Four**

Weeks passed and Shane and Daryl slowly found themselves growing into a routine. They'd hunt for food early in the morning, just before the sun rose. Then they'd travel deeper into the woods, searching for their lost group. When night fell, they'd make a camp, eat, then scale the sturdiest tree they could find and rest for the night taking turns keeping watch. Then...

Winter came swift and brutal, and neither Shane nor Daryl were fully prepared. In fact as it was, they were woefully underprepared for the harsh georgian winter.

The temperature dropped lower with each passing day, the trees becoming more brittle and less safe for them to sleep in. Game grew scarce as the animals began to hibernate and the vegetation shriveled and died to get ready for spring. On some days they awakened to snow on the ground and others it was too cold to even dare leave whatever shelter they'd found. Their clothes were ragged and worn, clinging pitifully to their thinning bodies. They'd known it wasn't long before one of them fell ill from the harshness of their conditions...they just hadn't expected it to happen so soon.

Nor had they expected what would come of it.

* * *

Shane was sick.

His short dark hair, which had started growing back, was plastered to his skull with cold sweat, his eyes wide and bright with fever. His skin was flushed and shivers wracked his muscular frame, causing small pained sounds to leave his lips unbidden. However it was the painful dry-heaves leaving him that woke Daryl.

The hunter bit his lips nervously, blue eyes taking in the situation best he could. He knew how to care for sick people, having care for both his father and his brother numerous times be it hangovers, overdoses, or the flu. He'd even gone to school for nursing while Merle had been in the army but he'd never finished, because Merle had told him that being a nurse was a woman's work. Still that passion for helping people hadn't left him and he refused to let Walsh suffer if he could help. He wasn't a cruel man.

Ripping a peice of the thin sheet he was using, he wet it with the cool water from his canteen and began to gently clean the cold sweat from the older man's face and throat, jerking slightly whenever the man let out a soft groan. When he finished, he helped the man sip a bit of the water from his own canteen then settled him down so he could rest.

Looking around, he noticed that he didn't have everything he would need to treat his new paitent. Luckily the nearest town was only a few miles away from their current shelter. They'd been planning to raid it later that day however it looked like he'd be doing so alone. If he left soon he'd be able to make it there and back by noon. Checking to make sure that Walsh was still asleep, he switched their canteens, leaving the fuller one with the ailing man. Then he grabbed his crossbow and slipped out of the small abandoned cottage they'd been using for the past two days. He made sure it was well protected and that all his traps were in place then vanished took off toward the town.

* * *

He returned just before sunset, lithe frame trembling from the cold despite the warm jacket he'd found on his trip. He immediately reset the traps and rebuilt the barricades on the doors, before setting down his supplies to tend to his ill companion. The older man was fast asleep, his canteen beside him only three-quarters of the way empty. Taking one of the bottles, he refilled the canteen, pouring the remaining water into a pot to boil. Then he took out a few bottles of medicine, a thermometer, and a few cans of soup.

"Shane, 're ya allegic ta anythin'?" He asked, shaking the man awake. Walsh shook his head, dazedly and tried to sit up, only to scowl when Daryl forced him to lie down.

"I c'n take care myself." He argued stubbornly as the hunter poured a small it of the medicine onto the cap.

"Shut up." Daryl replied placing the cap to his lips. He turned his head away.

"I can do it!" He tried to yell, voice breaking and his companion glared down at him.

"Stop bein' stupid, Walsh! Ya c'n barely sit up on yer own. So take the damn medicine!" He snapped. Shane opened his mouth to reply, but Daryl shoved the medicine in his mouth and pinched his nose shut to ensure he'd swallow it. When he finished he pulled away, and placed the can in the boiling water to heat it up a bit. Opening it, he wrapped a thick cloth around it and set it beside him so he could help Shane sit up.

"Ho- how'd ya know how ta do this anyways?" Shane rasped and the hunter shrugged.

"Learned at school. Ne'er finished."

Shane raised an eyebrow.

"You went to school to become a nurse."

Daryl glared at the incredulous tone of his voice, forcing back the hurt he felt whenever people _assumed_ he was stupid.

 _'You are.'_ A traitorous voice in his mind whispered and he gritted his teeth.

"Was almost finished, then Merle came home and Pa found out...so I had to quit." He finally responded, voice curt and abrupt. Shane frowned, knowing he'd offended the younger man with his preconcieved notions. He looked down at the warm soup in his hand, then up at Daryl.

"'m sorry. I didn't mean anything by it, it's just ya don't look like the nursing type." He frowned as a wave of dizziness hit him, hands clenching in an effort to keep hold of something. Gentle, calloused hands removed the can from his grip and helped him settle before tucking a thick worn blanket around him. He looked at his companion blurrily, watching his brow furrow in worry.

"m sorry." He repeated and Daryl rolled his eyes, but his fingers settled hesitantly in his hair.

"Go to sleep, Walsh. I can take watch tonight."

Shane nodded, dark eyes sliding closed, leaving Daryl alone with his thoughts.

* * *

Walsh was getting worse.

Daryl bit his lip worriedly as he dabbed the ailing man's brow with a cool rag, then tilting his head up so that he could feed him some broth. He had no idea, what was making the man so ill, only that it was getting worse with each passing day. He'd checked the man for bites, scratches, anything that could lead to infection only to come up with nothing. Now, almost two weeks later and Shane was still sick. This, of course, meant that the hunter had been doing all the scavenging and everything alone, on top of taking care of Shane and he was exhausted.

He sighed, making sure his companion was settled and clean, before standing. "We're running low on meds." He told the unconcious man. "I need to go get more."

Picking up his crossbow and his pack, he spared the man one last glance then left, resetting the traps protecting the cottage as he did so. When he arrived in the town, he moved quickly from store to store, house to house, grabbing whatever he could fit in his pack that would be even the slightest bit he turned and made his was back to the edge of the forest.

"Wait!" Daryl spun around, startled. In the two weeks he'd been scavenging in the town, he hadn't seen anyone, especially with the winter being as harsh as it was. Behind him were two children, the older of which stared up at him with wet blue eyes.

"Please, help."

He bit his lip, knowing the longer he was gone, the less protection Shane had, especially as sick as he was. Still, he couldn't deny children help...so he nodded.

The eldest child, a little girl of five, smiled at him.

"Momma's gone. She got bit by the monsters."

The hunter's eyes widened and he sighed looking down at the the other child. A babe, no older than a few weeks. They wouldn't survive on their own...at all. Shane was gonna flip his shit when he got better.

"Yer gonna need some warmer clothes."

 **TBC...**


	5. Chapter 5

**Chapter Five**

"He's waking up!"

Shane's brow furrowed as a soft, childish voice sounded over him, somewhere to his right. The voice was accompanied by a small hand on his forehead.

"Mommy, he's waking up." The voice repeated and the officer's frown deepened.

Where was he? Where was Daryl? And who the hell were these random people?

"Quiet, 'lyssa. I heard ya th' firs' time." Replied a gruff, familiar voice and unexpectedly, he felt something in him relax.

So Daryl hadn't abandoned him. Good.

Dark eyes fluttered open, their owner groaning softly only to jolt as they met unfamiliar green eyes which stared at him curiously.

"You okay now, Mr. Shane?"

He stared.

Long sandy blond hair fell over tiny shoulders, framing a round innocent face, and tiny hands fluttered anxiously around him, feeling his forehead and straitening the thick blankets, he just noticed was around him.

"Mr. Shane?" The girl repeated, biting her lip nervously and he frowned slightly, jerking as Daryl appeared over him, his own expression set in a worried frown even as Shane noticed the exhaustion lining every line of the younger man's body.

"Dixon?"

The man sent him a look then sighed. "Ya been sick for damn near three weeks. Ya didn' even stir when we had to move last week."

Shane frowned and jolted into a sitting position only to be forced back down by the archer who sent him a dirty look.

"I didn' just spend two weeks takin' care o' ya so that you c'n fuck it up. So lay there and shut up."

The little girl nodded in agreement and smiled at him. He blinked and glanced around searching for her parents but finding no one. His frown deepened.

Hadn't she called for her mother a few moments ago?

A light blush crossed his companion's haggard face, barely visible in the low light of the fire and his eyebrow rose incredulously.

Seriously?

He looked at the little girl then back to Daryl and the eyebrow rose even higher.

Seriously.

"Shut up."

"Yes mom." He snarked and the hunter narrowed his eyes.

"I'll stomp yer ass."

Shane snorted and rolled his eyes, sitting up slowly.

"Aren't you gonna introduce your daughter?"

"'lyssa, Shane. Shane, 'lyssa."

The child giggled and grinned. "m'names Alyssa Marianna Dixon now." She announced and Shane chuckled, shaking her tiny hand gently.

"The names Shane Walsh. How'd you an' yer mama meet?"

"The monsters got my other mommy an' daddy an' mommy brought us here?"

Shane frowned slightly and looked at the archer. "Us?"

Daryl nodded and gestured down to a bundle, Shane only just noticed he was holding. A tiny baby, no older than a few weeks old lay fast asleep wrapped in a worn but clean blue blanket, wispy platinum blond hair framing his peaceful face.

"'is name's Jason. He's bout a month old."

Something soft crossed the younger man's face as the child let out a soft whimper, seemingly aware that he was the topic of conversation and Shane couldn't stop the smile that crossed his lips.

In the months he's known Daryl Dixon he'd never seen the man look so…soft. It made something damaged flutter in his chest and he forced it back with a vengeance. There was no way he was going down _that_ road.

Not after he'd finally gotten over Lori.

A soft whimper left Jason and all of the hunter's attention immediately snapped to the child's distressed features immediately, stormy eyes intense.

"Sh, I gotcha. I gotcha." He crooned, voiced gentle and gruff as he spoke and Shane remembered vaguely hearing the same voice speaking to him wile he was sick. The infant calmed immediately, releasing a quiet coo before settling back into his own peaceful sleep. Once he was sure he was calm, Daryl ran a tired hand over his face and sagged in exhaustion.

The sick man frowned and sat up despite the tired glare Daryl gave him.

"When's the last time you slept?"

"'m fine."

Shane snorted. "You're dead on your feet, dumbass. I'm fine now, go rest."

Daryl shifted uncomfortably, obvious unused to anyone worrying about his health, if the light flush on his cheeks was anything to go by.

Frowning the dark-haired man gently removed the infant from the man and handed him to Alyssa, who cradled him calmly, keen eyes observing her 'mother' worriedly.

"G'on and rest, man. I'll take care of your kids til you get up."

He coaxed, pushing the man to lay in the pile of blankets he'd just vacated. Daryl laid down hesitantly, staring up at him like he expected to be kicked out any second or beaten for resting in the first place.

The cop fought not to frown. He had his suspicions about the Dixons' childhood and none of them were good. The way Daryl was acting only served to add to those suspicions, as did the scars he'd seen at the farm when Hershel had patched him up.

Alyssa moved passed him and curled up beside the hunter, laying Jason between them. Daryl stiffened and she smiled soothingly.

"Sleep, mommy." She said sternly and his lips curled into an amused smirk when the hunter tried to glare only for his eyes to fall shut.

He was asleep moments later.

"'e ain't slept alot." Alyssa said softly, her little face much too serious for a child's.

Shane smiled at her.

"Well he's gonna rest now."

She giggled and snuggled closer to the hunter, her eyes falling closed, when he automatically pulled her and her brother closer, protecting them even in his sleep. "Thank you."

He smiled and covered them, his heart warming strangely in his chest as he watched over them.

It was the most peaceful he'd seen the man in the months he'd known him, the lines in his face smoothing out, making him seem years younger, the frown on his lips, relaxed. He was beautiful, dark ash-blonde hair falling against his dirt-streaked cheeks like a dark veil trying to shield him from the cruel world outside their cottage.

Shane blushed and looked away, heart pounding rapidly in his chest.

Yeah, _so_ not going there.

* * *

A prison.

Rick smiled wanly as he looked up at the prison in front of him, sharp eyes taking in the walkers milling around the yard.

It was perfect for them.

All they had to do was clear out the yard and work their way through clearing the cell blocks and they would have a home.

A real home, that would protect them from the harsh winter, bearing down on them.

A home neither Shane or Daryl would ever see and his heart sank at that thought.

He'd been holding out hope for them for so long, almost four months, and even though the two men were the best survivors he'd known he had to be realistic.

A hand landed on his shoulder and he turned to Glenn, who smiled.

"Let's make it home."

He nodded and to the others.

"Let's make it home." He replied and they all smiled, even Lori, her hand going to her swollen belly.

* * *

Five months.

They had been stranded alone together for five months and two weeks, so long the days seemed to blend together and the only light they had were the two children travelling with them.

They moved from place to place, scavenging and scrounging up any resource they could to keep their children fed and as warm as they could in the houses they found.

In addition to this they found themselves growing closer to each other despite their initial discomfort, adapting to each other until one was like and extension of the other.

Shane glanced over at hi- the hunter sitting on the other side of the fire feeding Jason.

The area they were in was getting colder by the day, the herds getting worse as food became scarce and they really needed to head somewhere else.

"We're running out of food." He rumbled, rocking Alyssa's sleeping form in his lap and running his fingers through her soft hair. Daryl nodded absently, tucking a lock of hair behind one of his ears.

"Need ta find s'mewhere safe."

He shivered, pulling Jason closer. "'specially with 'lyssa an' Jason."

Shane nodded in agreement, heart shuddering when Daryl looked up with fear hidden in his gaze.

"What're we gonna do?"

He sighed and ran an anxious hand through his own hair.

"I don't know…I really don't know."

 **TBC…**


	6. Chapter 6

**WARNING! CHILD DEATH IN THIS CHAPTER. TRIGGER WARNING!**

 **Chapter Six**

Jason was sick and Daryl was terrified.

The infant, barely hitting his fifth month had fallen ill nearly a week previous and it seemed that no matter how much medicine and warmth he supplied the child with, his baby was only getting worse.

Even now, as he held the baby in his arms, he could feel the unnatural heat permeating the babe's skin, soft cheeks flushed with fever.

A soft whimper left infant, who curled closer to him and he looked up at Shane, hoping the older man would have a solution to what they would need to do.

He loved both children as if they were his own, and as far as he was concerned, they were, and he bit back a rough sob when his companion looked away sadly.

Alyssa's eyes watered and she looked up at the former cop worriedly.

"Daddy," The man glanced down at her. She had first called him that only days after he had awakened and it still tugged on his heartstrings every time he heard it. Looking into her sad eyes, he knew that she understood all too well that her baby brother wouldn't make it.

"Is Jason gonna die?" She asked softly, her voice far too mature for a child her age and he pulled her into his arms instead of answering her, heart breaking at the devastation written on Daryl's face.

He longed to pull the hunter into his arms and promise that everything would be okay, but he knew that if Jason, no after Jason died, nothing would be okay for a long, long time.

* * *

When Jason died, Daryl was the only one awake.

The child had been having trouble breathing and eating all day and the hunter had a feeling that it would be his last night with their youngest child so he had settled down next to the fire, humming softly to the baby in his arms.

Pale green eyes stared up at him, far too at peace for the happenings at the moment, and a tiny hand reached up to grab his beard.

"'m sorry." He whispered to the babe, who inhaled shakily then exhaled, hand falling back to his side.

"M'ma." He cooed quietly and tears burned Daryl's eyes.

"'m sorry. 'm so sorry." He whispered, holding the child close, his heart stilling in his chest when the tiny body in his arms went still.

A low, broken sob left the hunter's lips and he curled around his lifeless child, his lean frame trembling as he sobbed out his heartache. Strong arms wrapped around him, and he felt Shane bury his face in his back, his shirt soaking with the older man's silent tears.

"Sh, it'll be okay. He's better now." A silent sob shook the former deputy's strong frame and his voice broke. "He's better now."

Daryl leaned into him, seeking his comfort as his heart started to hollow in his chest.

Nothing was okay.

It wouldn't be okay ever again.

* * *

He had a daughter.

Rick smiled proudly at his wife as the woman looked down tiredly at their newborn baby girl. He ignored the pain in his chest, that wished that his brother and his confident were there and just allowed himself to revel in the warmth of his family surrounding him.

Gently taking his daughter from the woman's arms, he held her close to his chest.

"Judith Sharyl Grimes."

Lori smiled tiredly.

"After Shane and Daryl?"

He nodded and she closed her eyes.

"I think…they would've liked that."

* * *

Something had changed between them.

Shane smiled slightly down at the hunter sleeping in his arms, their daughter curled in close to her mother's chest.

In the month since their son's death, their relationship had moved from close companions to married with children, and while they both grieved the loss of Jason, they refused to let it get in the way of them caring for Alyssa.

"Yer thinkin' too loud."

He smirked down at his lover, who glared up at him balefully with one sleep blue eye.

"One of us has to think and I like to think I'm the brains of this operation."

Daryl snorted, and sat up with Alyssa held in his arms, his keen gaze checking the barricades on the windows and doors of the rundown cabin they were taking shelter in.

"I need ta go hunting soon. We can't keep eatin' can food or 'lyssa will get sick."

Shane frowned.

"It's not safe for you to be going out alone. Not after last time."

He shuddered remembering the men that had attacked the hunter a few weeks ago, while he was on a hunt. The bastards had called themselves the Claimers and it had only been the fact that Shane had gotten worried when the hunter had taken too long that stopped them from doing more than beating the archer. When him and Alyssa had arrived the leader had been preparing to "claim" Daryl in the worse way possible.

Shane had killed each and every one of them.

Even still, the bruises and still painted the younger man's lightly tanned skin, serving as reminders of what might've happened to his lover had he not interfered.

Daryl glared at him, but the he caught a flash of fear in the other's stormy gaze and after a moment he nodded reluctantly.

"We'll wait 'til 'lyssa wakes up."

Shane nodded and cupped his cheek.

"Hey," He said softly. "I know you don't like it, but I can't lose you too. You and Alyssa are all I have left."

A light blush crossed the hunter's cheeks and he looked away shyly.

"Can't lose you either."

"You won't." He promised, kissing him chastely.

"You won't."

* * *

"Dad," Rick looked up at his son as the boy appeared beside him with Judith cradled gently in his arms. His son had grown so much since they had lost Daryl and Shane and it made him proud even as his heart ached.

"What's wrong?"

Carl bit his lip then looked up at him, his brow furrowed.

"Do you think Shane and Daryl woulda liked it here?"

He swallowed thickly, remembering with sudden clarity that his son had just started growing closer to the taciturn archer when they'd been separated. It had surprised him how gentle yet stern the man was when dealing with his son but at the time he hadn't questioned it.

"I think they would've liked having a home." He responded and Carl nodded.

Later that night as he passed the cell his children slept in, he heard Carl talking to Judith in soft tones about their uncles Shane and Daryl and how Daryl looked scary but he was really nice.

He pretends his shattered heart doesn't break even more.

 **TBC…**


	7. Chapter 7

**Warning:** **A bit of time line warping for creative purposes. Non-graphic Non-con/ Rape**

 **Chapter Seven**

"Come again?"

Glenn bit his lip as he stood in front of his leader holding a crossbow he and Maggie had found on a run. The weapon had been lying beside a walker, covered in blood and guts, but he couldn't bring himself to leave it there. Not when it reminded him so much of the taciturn man that had slowly started to become his friend.

A year had passed with no sign of their two missing members and with each passing day the trail grew colder. He didn't feel out of line for his suggestion, although Rick's tone made him wish he did. It was so lost and full of hurt that he wanted to recant the idea altogether.

"I want, I think we should dig graves for Shane and Daryl. I talked to Hershel, Rick and it been a year since the farm fell. In the world before cops give it 48 hours, but in today's world even that's pushing it. I just, I want us to have a memorial just in case. They deserve it."

The man's mouth opened, then closed, and he nodded reluctantly, pain deep in his blue eyes.

"I understand." He swallowed. "We'll hold it tomorrow morning."

Glenn nodded solemnly, blinking as Rick turned to walk in the direction of the 'grave yard'. A small, pained smile crossed his lips.

Of course, the man would think he was digging the graves alone. Luckily, Glenn already had his shovel ready.

"Hey, wait up!"

Rick paused, then smile gratefully as the younger man placed the crossbow down carefully and picked up a shovel.

"You didn't really think I'd let you do this alone, did you?"

Rick smiled.

"Thank you."

"That's what family's for."

* * *

They were under attack.

Daryl snarled wordlessly as he dodged a bat to the head only for someone to grab him from behind, being careful not to give away Alyssa's location.

He's returned from teaching the child how to hunt to find the abandoned house they were staying in under attack, Shane fighting the invaders with his all even as they slowly began to overwhelm him. Forcing his daughter to hide, he handed her a small gun and a knife that he'd nicked from a corpse a few weeks previous, and told her that she was only to leave one the men left. Then he'd leapt into the fray, forcing all of the anger he felt toward their attackers be known.

A grunt of pain left Shane not too far from him and he bit his lip, gasping as the bat struck his abdomen.

"Don't kill them." One of the men ordered. "The governor wants us to bring him new survivors."

Behind him, he heard Shane snarling threats, before a sharp crack silenced him.

His heart stuttered in his chest.

Not Shane, please not Shane.

He couldn't do this alone.

Punching on of the assailants, he jerked and began to struggle as another man grabbed him.

"Hey boss…this one's kinda cute."

He began to struggle harder, shuddering in revulsion as his captor ran his dirty hand down the side of his throat.

"Fuckin' pig," He snarled. "I'm killin' you first!"

The hand met his cheek in a harsh slap and he hissed.

"Be you can scream with that mouth of yours." The man's hand down to unbuckle his pants, shoving them down and Daryl's struggled as hard as he could, feeling the evidence of the man's arousal against his backside.

A low groan left his assailant at his struggles and he couldn't help but gasp when the man thrust against his bare ass. He forced himself not to scream, not to cry at the unfairness of it all, glancing in the direction of Alyssa's hiding place. The child stared back him, wide eyes full of tears. He had to get her outta there.

"Run." He mouthed.

She hesitated, glancing at Shane's unconscious form, before obeying and he found himself grateful that she wouldn't see his shame.

Pain ripped through him, fiercer than anything he'd ever felt and he bit down on his lip to keep from screaming.

Blood coated his tongue as the man entered him again and again, forcing himself deeper into the archer's body. Meanwhile, the other intruders continued to ransack his home, ignoring the violent act. Black spots threatened to overtake the archer's vision and he was thankful as they sent him into blissful unconsciousness.

* * *

Run.

Tears streamed down Alyssa's face as she followed her mother's orders, running as fast as he little legs could carry her. As she ran, the horrifying image of those men hurting her mama raced through her head sending fresh tears down her cheeks with each passing second.

How could anyone do that to another person?

Why did those men want to hurt them?

A broken sob escaped her unbidden and she whimpered as she remembered seeing her papa lying unconscious at the bad men's feel, a small gash bleeding on his forehead.

What was she gonna do?

Lungs burning, she slowed down, leaning against a tree as she took a sip from the water canteen her mama had given her before their hunt that morning.

The older Dixon had started to teach her how to hunt and track saying that Dixon's, no matter how young, had to know the forest. Papa had called him crazy and told him she had to know how to use weapon first.

Her mama was not someone that was easily swayed.

…he taught her how to use a gun and a knife.

Then he taught her how to hunt.

A small smile crossed her lips at the thought and she tucked her canteen back into her belt.

She would find somewhere to rest.

Then she was going to go save her parents.

* * *

Carl frowned deeply as he moved through the forest quietly, baby blue eyes keen and alert.

He could remember Daryl the lessons Daryl had started teaching him at the farm about tracking and hunting and he knew enough to take down small prey like raccoons and squirrels. It wasn't much but it kept them fed and that was all he cared about.

It had taken weeks to convince his parents to let him go before they finally did, hence the source of his irritation.

His hunting buddy…was Beth.

Normally he had no trouble with the girl but right now?

Her footsteps were scaring the game away.

"Carl." She called softly and he scowled at her.

"What?"

"Look." She pointed at something up in a tree and he followed her gaze only to blink in surprise.

A little girl, no older than six was curled up on one of the branches, a belt wrapping around her wrist and the branch so she wouldn't fall. Long blond curl fell around her face and his heart melted.

She reminded him of Judith.

She…was awake and aiming a gun at his head.

"Hey," Beth crooned softly. "No need for that, we aren't gonna hurt you."

She stared at them, gaze too hard and untrusting for her age.

"Some bad men got mama and Papa."

"We have a group near here, they can help you get them back."

"If you try anythin' funny I'll shoot."

Carl sighed.

What the hell did he just get himself into?

 **TBC…**


	8. Chapter 8

**TRIGGER WARNING: Non-graphic NON-CON/Rape at the beginning of the chapter. To avoid, move to the first page break.**

 **Chapter Eight**

Daryl!

Shane jolted awake as his body was jolted painfully on a concrete floor, dark eyes darting around the room in mild panic.

He remembered Alyssa and Daryl leaving to hunt, and some men finding the cabin they were holed up in. He remembered denying the bastards when they demanded he hand over their supplies, and the beating that followed. Most of all, he remembered Daryl joining him just before he went down, so where was his hunter now?

Rough hands grabbed him and forced him into a chair, tying him down and cuffing him tightly to its metal frame.

"Th' fuck are you?" He slurred looking up at his assailants dazedly. Three heavily muscled men looked back at him, smirking dangerously.

"None of your fucking business, right now. See the boss took a liking to that little bitch you were brought in with," -Alyssa? - "And he's got quite the show planned for ya. He'll show you what happens to that those that disobey."

The former cop shook his head rapidly, his heart racing at the thought of his baby girl being caught, and, if the bed across from his chair was any indication, _worse_.

In the time that had passes since finding her, he'd come to love her, she filled that spot in his heart that always felt empty when he saw Lori and Rick with Carl. She was his child. He had to protect her.

The door to his cell swung open and a slender man entered, his clothes pristine, and his hair neatly groomed as if the apocalypse was just a dream.

What the hell was going on?

His heart leapt into his throat when the answer arrived a few minutes later. Daryl was being dragged into the room, his clothing torn in, his hands bound, and his mouth gagged. The hunter was struggling against his captors, swearing under his gag, even as his clothing was ripped away and he was bound to the bed by the same men that had bound Shane.

Bile pooled in the older man's throat, and he struggled as hard as he could to free himself as he realized what they planned to do to his hunter. What, from the looks of the marks marring the younger' lean frame, they had already done.

What had they done to deserve this?

The man, who introduced himself as the Governor, unbuckled his pants and, with no warning, thrust violently into the thrashing man beneath him.

A scream sounded, and Shane was dimly aware of the blood dripping down his wrists, as he tried to escape, to save his hunter from the monster before him.

What the _hell_ had they done to deserve this?

* * *

Rick was rarely surprised these days.

Waking up from a coma to the apocalypse, losing both his best friend and his confident on the same night, and being forced to teach his only child to survive the end of the world had taken the entire surprise factor out of his life…or so he thought.

Carl and Beth had returned from their hunt with squirrels, rabbits, and…a little girl, who was convinced that bad men had taken her parents. As she explained it, her mother had told her to hide and _given her gun_ before telling her to run when the men had overpowered them. It was crazy and had it not been for the steel in her eyes he'd have thought she was mistaking the walker for people. That theory had gone out the window when Carl told him she'd killed walkers effortlessly on their way back.

He looked down at her, his heart melting as he saw the fear hidden in her gaze.

"How 'bout you stay here til we find your parents, alright? There are other kids here to keep you company while we search for them, okay?"

She frowned, and her eyes watered, her tough mask falling to reveal the terrified child beneath.

"I- I wan' my mama." She whimpered and he pulled her into a warm hug, stroking her hair soothingly.

"I know, sweetheart. We'll find them."

"Rick!" He looked up to find Carol rushing over to him followed by a stern dark-skinned woman with long dread-locked hair.

"Carol?"

"Maggie and Glenn were taken."

His features hardened and gently pushed Alyssa in her direction.

"Take Alyssa to Carl and tell him to get her set up. Then meet me in the council room." He turned to the newcomer. "You, come with me."

She nodded, dark eyes glancing at Alyssa curiously, before she followed him. He filed it away for later, focusing on the tasks ahead of him.

He'd promised to get a little girl her family back, and he would…after he got his own back first.

* * *

"Hey, Dar, c'mon." Shane swallowed thickly as his lover failed to answer him, merely curling closer to him silently.

Hours had passed since their last meeting with The Governor, days since they'd first been thrown in this prison and he hated it. With every day that passed, Daryl broke more and more, and he was forced to watch, unable to do anything other than scream with his lover and hold him afterwards as he fell apart.

The body in his arms seemed to have a permanent tremor and never in his life had he felt so damn helpless. He curled his arms tighter around him, ignoring the sting of the handcuffs cutting into his mutilated wrists.

"I'm so sorry." He whispered, running a gentle hand through his lover's matted hair. "I should've given them what they wanted." He cursed, pulling the other closer.

"I'll get us out of here. Just hold on a little longer."

Tears welled in his eyes, his throat burning as they escaped unbidden. In his arms, Daryl slid into unconsciousness, slim form falling limp and he felt relief creep up on him.

The man didn't deserve to watch him break, not with everything that was happening to him. A silent sob left his throat and he kissed his hunter's forehead chastely.

"We'll find 'Lyssa. And Rick, and the others. We'll find somewhere to hunker down and live this thing through. Just hold on a little longer."

Just a little longer.

 **TBC…**


	9. Chapter 9

**Chapter Nine**

He wasn't sure how long they'd been there.

Days?

Months?

Weeks?

It didn't matter. Every day he watched as Daryl was beaten and used by their captors, his lean frame so weak and battered that even when he fought back it did him no good.

And _boy,_ did Daryl fight back.

He clawed at the men as they reached for his naked form with lust filled eyes, biting and thrashing as they fought to subdue him. He put up as much fight as he dared, unwilling to let them know how much they were breaking him with each visit. The only person that saw that was Shane, himself, who fought just as hard to protect the archer. It got to the point where the men detaining them made sure to come into their cell in groups no smaller than eight, four to subdue and break the hunter and four to fight his protector.

Every once in a while, the Governor would accompany them and smile as if they were his personal amusements. Pets pitted against each other, against others for survival while their owners watched and laughed. Every visit, Shane would snarl at him, asking why the man had chosen _them_. Chosen _their_ little family.

Why?

Why?

 _Why?_

Every time he asked, the Governor merely chuckled, dark eyes full of malicious glee. He enjoyed their pain, their suffering, their _helplessness_ , almost as much as Shane despised it.

It was only sometime after the tenth -or was it the twelfth- visit that the Governor answered his question with a shark's smile on his lips and hell's intentions in his eyes. He'd been especially rough on Daryl that visit, leaving the hapless archer lying unconscious only a few meters away from Shane, bruises and blood warring for dominance on his skin and blood and unmentionables leaking from the most intimate of places.

"You always ask why." The man purred, straightening his clothing. He grabbed Shane's jaw viciously, hand still stained with Daryl's blood.

Shane fought back the bile making its way up his throat.

"I'll kill you."

The man continued, as if he hadn't spoken. "Y'all are _mine._ I own you. You're my pets, all because you don't listen."

He gestured to the broken hunter on the ground.

"Him? He's been mine since the moment y'all set foot in here. All defiant and angry… **mine.** "

Something in Shane broke at his words and red clouded his vision.

When he regained his awareness, the Governor was gone and his arms and legs were shackled together.

The Governor didn't visit again.

But somehow things grew worse.

Daryl grew sick, his wounds infected. He tried to hide it- of course he did- but after what felt like years together, Shane knew him better than anyone in their group ever had.

Their captors didn't seem to care.

No one came…and what felt like weeks passed.

Shane spent that time holding Daryl as close as his shackles would allow, listening as the hunter passed in and out of consciousness.

In his heart, he knew his lover wouldn't survive this and he knew that if Daryl fell he would follow.

He had nothing else in this godforsaken world anyways.

* * *

They were hiding something from him.

Merle's keen blue eyes narrowed thoughtfully as he waited in the interrogation room for the prisoner to be brought in.

For the past week, the Governor and some of his "most trusted" had been disappearing. No one knew where they were going, only that it had to do with a raid that had taken place shortly before. The soldiers had returned with two prisoners, but no one other than the Governor and the others knew who they were and why they'd been taken.

His gritted his teeth, regretting, no for the first time, the choice he'd made in Atlanta that had led him to Woodbury. He shouldn't have taken the drugs, especially knowing that they would impair his judgement, but at the time, he hadn't cared. Too many memories had been clamoring for his attention, dragged to the surface by the apocalypse, and he'd just wanted some peace. An escape.

It had cost him his arm…and his brother.

Daryl had always been the light of his life, even when the kid hadn't known it. He was the reason Merle had fought so hard against their father, the reason Merle had come home from Iraq and forced himself to go to therapy even when all he really wanted was to give up. He was the reason Merle had joined the quarry with little argument and a halfcocked plan to rob them.

The reason Merle had fought so hard against his addiction before everything.

So why had he slipped?

He'd known they were the outliers of the quarry. They didn't fit in with the rest of them, not with their rough edges and keen instincts. Daryl was sharp and patient, his gaze too intent for most to meet half the time. But Merle, he was a thunderstorm. As loud as he was deadly, violent and brash. He wore slurs like a cloak, spitting them like they were a second language because in the end, the only person he could rely on in this world was his brother. Daryl would be at his side, no matter what he did, and would follow his lead with little more than a disapproving tilt of the lips and a dark gleam of understanding in his eyes.

Here he didn't have that. The Governor and his men weren't loyal, they'd sooner cut him down that they would help him, and everywhere he turned, he could practically feel the knife poised at his back.

It was a constant state of mimicking the others to live that had gotten him as far as he had, but something with the man set his every instinct on end. It made him wonder how the other citizens of Woodbury slept so soundly at night.

The door to the room opened and a familiar face was dragged in, eyes widening in fear as they spotted his hulking form.

The china man, Gem or something.

"M-Merle?!" His eyes narrowed at the exclamation. Something was wrong.

The china man had always feared him, hell most of the people in their camp had been afraid of him, but he'd never seen the china man so terrified before.

His voice was full of it, a tendril of remorse and pain slipping into that one word. He smirked, the mask he'd worn in the Quarry in full effect.

"Well, well, well. If it ain't the china man. How Officer Prick, and his new buddy Officer friendly? Dead yet?"

The kid paled, but something fierce flashed in his eyes.

"Shane's dead."

"Go- "

"He died…w-with Daryl."

Merle Dixon froze, mask falling immediately.

His pale grey-blue eyes hardened.

"What did you say?"

"Shane and Daryl are dead."

No.

 _NO!_

Not Daryl. Not his sweet baby brother! Not the toddler that used to greet him with a gum-filled smile, every day after school, regardless of the bruises marring his fair skin. Not the blond teenager that had whispered his secrets to Merle in the dead of night, drunk and broken because he felt unaccepted by their family.

Not Daryl!

"Yer lying." He snarled, hurt and agony, pain and despair, and rage, so much rage filling him all at once.

"I'm not!" The kid cried, panicked as he read the rage in the older Dixon. "There was a farm- and a fire-"

Merle punched him on principle alone, ignoring the guilt that crashed over him.

This was all his fault.

* * *

Maggie gasped painfully as she hit the floor of a dark cell, her captors laughing even as they shot fearful glances into the room.

"Enjoy your stay." They sneered, before fleeing and leaving her alone.

The room was medium sized, and if not for its forbidding stone walls and cold concrete floors she would've mistaken it for a normal bedroom. There was a bed in the corner bolted to the floor and covered in blood and who knows what else, and a thick putrid stench filled the air, making her stomach churn.

No, not bedroom, a torture chamber.

Someone's sanity had been broken in this room.

And, judging by the sound of the soft whimpers and ragged breaths she could hear from the darkest corner of the cell, they were still there.

"H-hello?"

She called, glancing in their direction, straining her eyes to see. All she found were two pairs of dirty feet shackled and intertwined, dangerous, seemingly feral dark eyes gleaming at her from the abyss.

After a moment those eyes widened.

"Maggie?"

She gasped, recognizing the voice even if it had been over a year since she'd heard it. It was darker, and rough but not broken and certainly not dead.

"Shane?!"

 **TBC…**

 **A/N: Happy Holidays, everyone! Be safe! I love you all!**


	10. Chapter 10

**Chapter Ten**

Dixon was suspicious.

It wasn't obvious, but still he could see it in the way the man would stare at his man with keen grey eyes, hand never straying far from the knife in his belt.

He'd saved the man on a whim, awed by the tenacity the man showed as he struggled to keep moving even as blood loss weakened him. Then, when the man had survived through the night, he'd been captivated by the thought of owning that tenacity. His men weren't hunters, but Dixon was and he was _good._

He'd lured him with a life debt and it had stuck.

Dixon was one of his best men, but one of his most volatile, so he didn't trust the man as much as he trusted his others. He listened as the man spoke of the group that had left him to die, of the brother that he'd left behind, able to hear his longing and he vowed that if he ever came across the latter he'd kill him. After all, if his brother was dead then he'd have Dixon's loyalty indefinitely.

Then he actually _met_ the younger Dixon.

His men had dragged the beautiful hunter in with another male, his storm colored eyes dark and defiant even as his body was broken in the most delightful of ways.

It set his blood alight.

He'd never met someone that challenged him so fiercely even as they were systematically destroyed.

He wanted that fire for himself…so he took it.

He took and took and _took,_ watching hungrily as the fire vanished in those with his every visit.

It was only after he accidentally saw Merle's picture in the things he'd confiscated from the hunter and his tag-a-long that he realized just whose flames he was extinguishing.

It made his victory that much sweeter.

Dixon had no idea that the baby brother he longed to return to was right after his nose and continued to follow him like the obedient dog he was, and he was able to continue breaking his prisoner, who, despite his best efforts seemed to retain just a bit of that fire.

He wanted to snuff it out completely.

There was only one problem; The attack dog.

The younger Dixon's companion was violent and protective of him. With every attack on the hunter, he grew more feral and although he'd never admit it aloud, he was terrified of the man…but he didn't want to kill him in front of the Dixon boy. Not until he'd completely snuffed out that pretty fire in his eyes, and yet he was too dangerous to keep alive, especially after the attack three days previous. His wounds still ached.

A dark gleam entered his eyes and a wicked thought entered his head.

Why not kill two birds with one stone?

There was another prisoner in the compound that had been wrecking his nerves lately, especially after she _KILLED HIS DAUGHTER!_

If he pitted her and the dog against each other in a fight to the death he'd be able to get rid of them both and keep his "good" reputation amongst his people. In addition, he'd be able to keep his pet and Dixon would remain unaware and loyal. They just had to find the bitch.

A soft chuckle left his throat and he turned to his second, who stood near the door.

"Separate my pet and the dog. Lock the mutt where the sword bitch was. Then _find her!_ "

"And the…pet?"

"Bring him to me."

* * *

"Shane?! It's really you!" Maggie gasped as the former cop moved into the light, glancing behind him worriedly.

"How'd you get here?" He responded urgently, dark eyes darting over to the door she'd been thrown through. He looked so different, wild and feral in a way she'd only remembered seeing in Daryl.

Daryl!

Where was he?

Hadn't they been together when the fire happened?

"Shane…where's Daryl?" She whispered and he narrowed his eyes, jerking his head back toward the shadows he'd emerged from.

"Dare?" He murmured softly, reaching a hand behind him.

The feet intertwined with his shifted, before their owner became visible.

Maggie wouldn't have been able to hold in her gasp if she'd tried.

The archer looked horrible!

His hair was matted and tangled, his skin a sickening mosaic of cuts and bruises. And most telling, his visible skin was bared for the world to see and littered with scars, some newer than others, his eyes fever bright as they met hers.

"M-Maggie." He rasped softly, glancing at the door fearfully.

Shane grabbed his hand, then snarled, his gaze following the hunter's.

"They're coming." He rumbled and a low whine left Daryl's throat before he stifled it and forced his expression to go blank.

Maggie swallowed thickly, shifting closer to them as the door opened and nine men entered the room.

Shane snarled once more, dark eyes feral and they flinched, five grabbing him and yanking him away from Daryl, while the remaining four took on Daryl who fought as well as his fevered form could.

With a vicious strike to the back of his neck, Shane went down and was carried away by three of the men, the others restraining her as she tried to get to Daryl.

"Daryl!" She screamed. "Daryl!"

A fist struck her temple and darkness overtook her.

Daryl's terror filled gaze followed her into oblivion.

* * *

They were being invaded.

The governor snarled angrily as the alarms sounded, pulling out of his pet none-too-gently and shoving him aside.

He ignored the pained sound that left him, gesturing for one of the others to chain him back up while he went to deal with the invaders.

It was the people from the prison.

So, that's where the bitch had gone.

Rushing from the room, he never noticed the dangerous gleam that entered his pet's eyes.

* * *

They were free.

Glenn couldn't help but release a sob of relief as Rick hugged him and Maggie, his aching body sagging as the pain from Merle's beating struck him.

Beside him, Maggie stiffened and pulled away, drawing everyone's attention.

"We have to go back."

Rick frowned and Glenn placed a hand on her arm.

"Mag-"

"No! We have to go back!" She yelled, tears welling in her eyes and Rick frowned.

"Why?"

"They have Shane," She paused, her eyes darkening with an unnamed emotion. "And Daryl."

They could do nothing but stare at her in shock.

"They're alive."

 **TBC…**


	11. Chapter 11

**Chapter Eleven**

" _They have Shane," She paused, her eyes darkening with an unnamed emotion. "And Daryl."_

 _They could do nothing but stare at her in shock._

" _They're alive."_

* * *

"Th-they're alive?" Rick whispered, eyes wide.

He'd always believed on a subconscious level that his brother and friend had lived but to hear it after so long of losing hope…he almost didn't believe her.

Almost.

Maggie knew how much Shane and Daryl meant to him, she wouldn't dare lie to him about that.

Ever.

"Y-you saw them?"

She nodded and Glenn scowled.

"Merle's here too."

Maggie stiffened. "Daryl's brother?"

"Yeah, he beat the shit out of me then released a walker on me after I told him Daryl was dead. I don't think he knows they're here?"

"We have to go back." She repeated adamantly and Rick sighed then nodded, taking note of how much weaponry they had left.

Hopefully they made it before something terrible happened to their long-lost family members.

* * *

Shane snarled angrily as the guards reentered his cell only hours after forcing him into it and shoved a burlap sack over his head.

Since the beginning of their captivity he had known this moment was coming, especially after he attacked the governor, but he refused to die begging for his life. If he had to die, he would die fighting and pray that whatever happened, Daryl managed to escape the hell they currently lived in. He hoped his hunter would find Alyssa and manage to find Rick and the others. And…and he regretted not saying goodbye.

" _I'm sorry, babe. I love you."_ He thought before he blanked his mind completely. The guards threw him to the ground and he could feel them removing the shackles on his hand and feet, moving away quickly once the limbs were free. The governor was speaking nearby and he briefly caught the words "Fight to the death", before the burlap was yanked from his head and he found himself staring into the stunned gaze of Merle Dixon.

Rage, hotter than any he'd ever felt engulfed him.

Merle had left, and to get revenge on them he'd let this bastard torture Daryl?!

Break him?!

Merle Dixon would pay for betraying Daryl to the governor.

He would regret the day he ever stepped foot into that Quarry in Atlanta, even if it took every breath in Shane's battered body.

* * *

Something was wrong.

Alarm bells were blaring in Merle's head as he stared into the dark feral eyes of Shane Walsh. The same Shane Walsh that had supposedly died with Daryl.

The same Shane Walsh that had hated all things Dixon…who stood before him while Daryl…Daryl did not.

Walsh had killed his brother.

Red descended over Merle's gaze at this realization and it was only the _ragegriefpain_ that kept him from seeing the violent anger dancing in his opponent's gaze.

Each trapped in their own rage, the two lunged, missing the self-satisfied gleam in the gaze of the man holding them hostage.

* * *

It was amusing, really.

To see the power the younger Dixon held over both of these men as they fought the other, each believing their opponent had wronged the slender man.

It made him wonder why he hadn't done this ages ago.

The mutt and Elder Dixon punched, kicked, and snarled at each other like wild beasts, too lost in their rage to think clearly and all he could do was laugh.

The victor would kill one and he would kill the other, then he would finally have completely eradicated the fiery will in his pets storm colored eyes.

A low chuckle left his lips and his eyes danced with utter darkness and satisfaction.

He couldn't wait.

* * *

He had to get out.

Thin lips curled into a dangerous snarl, hand tightening around the key he'd stolen from the Governor during the chaos. Keeping his gaze pinned on his captors, he began the tedious process of unlocking the shackles around his wrist, glaring each time the bastards leered in his direction.

He'd kill all of them.

His right hand came loose and he smirked ferally when his left hand soon followed.

Thankful for the tattered sheet one of the men had hastily thrown over him, he waited, watching as the Governor's men left one by one, drawn away by the sounds of chaos outside the walls of the room.

Finally, he was alone.

Scooting towards his feet, he hastily unlocked them, forcing his battered body to stand. Searching the room, he found that there were clothes in the closet, just a bit bigger than he was used to. He grabbed a shirt and some pants, shoving his feet into the first pair of boots he found. Stealing a knife, he slipped from the room and entered the fray.

"Hey! Get back-urk."

A feral grin crossed thin, pale lips as one of his captors fell under his knife, his eyes gleaming with a darkness many had never seen.

He would get free, even if he had to kill them all to do it.

* * *

Shane glared viciously as he watched Merle blow for blow trying to avenge all of the pain Daryl had suffered at his expense.

They'd been fighting for what felt like hours and Merle still hadn't fallen and it was _pissing him off._

He went to jab Merle in one of his openings when three black canisters flew into the "arena". Before they could figure out what was happening, smoke erupted and they found themselves being dragged out of the pit.

He snarled, fighting the hands as they got further and further away from Woodbury and _Daryl_ , only to still as a familiar voice reached his ears.

"Sh, calm down, brother. Its just me. You're safe."

He looked up, eyes wide. "Rick?"

His brother stared back, blue eyes wet and full of relief. "Hey, brother."

A broken sob left him and he pulled his friend into a strong embrace. "Rick!"

Maggie appeared beside him.

"I can't find Daryl."

Merle scowled, a hesitant hope building in his eyes.

"What the hell are you talking about. Daryl's dead."

Shane glared at him. "You let them kill him!"

Merle glared back. "Me? I ain't seen my brother since I left Atlanta. Y'all killed him!" He snarled.

A bush rustled a few feet away and they each turned, weapons raised only to stare stunned as Daryl stumbled out of the bushes.

Blood spattered across his bruised skin, his crossbow slung over his shoulder, and a knife was gripped tightly in his hand.

He stopped when he saw them, his grip on the knife tightening before he bypassed them all and walked straight over to Shane. The former deputy opened his arms immediately and embraced him gently, feeling something in his chest loosen.

They were free.

 **TBC…**


	12. Chapter 12

**Chapter Twelve**

 _He stopped when he saw them, his grip on the knife tightening before he bypassed them all and walked straight over to Shane. The former deputy opened his arms immediately and embraced him gently, feeling something in his chest loosen._

 _They were free._

* * *

His arms tightened around his hunter as the eyes of their old comrades (and Merle) stared at them stunned.

Their thoughts were almost written on their faces for all that they shared the same clueless ass expressions. In fact, he was hard pressed not to laugh at them, even though the situation was far from laughable.

Daryl pulled away from him, and he could see the exhaustion the younger male was fighting to hide, the pain making stormy blues tighten almost imperceptibly at the corners.

"We needa move. They were spreading out when I left there."

Shane nodded while Merle narrowed his eyes and reached out to grab his younger brother forcefully. To his surprise, the smaller jerked away bringing his knife up defensively, something feral dancing in his gaze. Walsh shifted slightly, placing himself between them protectively.

"Don't touch me." The words were spoken in a terse snarl, their owner wound tighter than a bow string even as he began to waver on his feet.

"Daryl what-"

The hunter turned, swiping the knife through the air violently as Rick's hand landed on his shoulder barely missing the former officer's throat.

"Don't." He repeated, moving closer to Shane, who placed a gentle hand on his arm.

"Let's get outta here."

The others sent him a strange look then nodded and with little argument they ventured deeper into the forest, away from Woodbury and the hellish memories it held.

* * *

Carl frowned deeply as he rocked Judith in his arms, dark blue eyes watching Alyssa thoughtfully. Weeks had passed since he'd brought the girl into the prison and with each passing day she reminded him of someone he knew. He couldn't remember who it was, but something about her screamed familiar and it was setting his senses on edge.

The girl was calm most of the time, quieter than any child he'd ever know, including Sophia. She only spoke when spoken to, spending most of her time either gazing into the forest longingly or near the fence stabbing walkers. At times, they forgot she was in the room, she was so quiet, but when she did speak there was a southern tang to her voice that seemed to be just developing. In addition, she was shy as hell, The other kids around the prison often complained to his mom and Carol that she refused to join in on any of the games they played and told them that she'd lashed out when they kept asking. It was almost like she was afraid of them.

"My mama says if you scrunch up yer face it'll stay like that."

He blinked, noticing that the object of his thoughts was standing in front of him, her green eyes darkening with longing and grief as she saw Judith.

"This your lil sister?"

He nodded and she swallowed, eyes watering.

"She's pretty." She hesitated. "C-can I hold her?"

He almost said 'no', but the look in her eyes made him reconsider and he nodded slowly.

"Here, like this." He said, coaching her gently until Judith lay cradled in her tiny arms.

"Hi," she whispered. "I'm Alyssa." She said and he smiled, ruffling her hair. Like with Judith, something in him screamed for him to protect her.

"Do you have any siblings?" He asked and she stiffened.

"I did. My baby brother, he died a little while back."

He winced. "How old was he?"

"Mama said he was a few months."

"Sorry." He replied and she sniffled. " 'S okay. Ya didn't know. Mama says people can't be blamed for what they don't know."

"Sounds wise."

The duo turned at the older voice and Carl smiled when he saw that it was his mother.

The woman had mellowed out since Shane and Daryl's disappearance, even more so after Judith was born and he could finally see the woman he'd grown up with. The mother he'd had before the apocalypse and they were better for it. His parents had even talked their shit out, which made them both happier than he'd seen them since before his dad was shot.

"Mama's the smartest person I know." Alyssa responded proudly looking every bit the six-year-old they knew she was and Lori smiled.

"Sounds like it."

"Their back!" Carol yelled rushing into the room. His mom gently took Judith from Alyssa and they all rushed in the direction Carol led them in. They found themselves in the yard where his dad stood along with Glenn, Maggie and a few others. However, it was the last three people that made him pause

Merle Dixon, first, his gaze steely as he glared at the other two. Where his left hand used to be, there was a strange metal contraption with a knife attached to it.

Next was Daryl, his normally calm gaze wild as if he were cornered. His clothing was a couple sizes too big and covered in blood, hair darker and longer than it had been before. His crossbow was slung across his shoulder, a knife clutched tightly in his hand as if were afraid to let it go.

And _Shane_. His surrogate uncle stood beside Daryl protectively, stubble darkening his cheeks and his hair longer than Carl had ever seen it. Like the hunter, his eyes were dark and wild, nearly feral in their intensity as the met his then looked down.

Beside him, Alyssa froze then bolted forward colliding with Shane's legs.

"Daddy!" She cried and Daryl rushed forward, eyes widening. Shane picked her up easily, his entire expression brightening.

Carl's jaw dropped.

"Hey sweetheart. Miss me?"

She nodded, sniffling before looking at Daryl and grinning brightly.

"Mama! You're okay!"

A thin broken smile crossed the hunter's lips.

"Glad you're okay." He responded and before anyone could say anything, his knees buckled and he collapsed to the ground unconscious.

 **TBC…**


	13. Chapter 13

**Chapter Thirteen**

"Mama!"

"Daryl!"

Shane placed his daughter down as gently as he could in his harried state and kneeled beside his lover's prone form, snarling when the others tried to step forward and help.

"Get away from my mama!" Alyssa snarled, raising her knife defensively and Merle snorted.

"Darylina ain't no woman." He sneered trying to bypass the child only to step back when she swiped at him, her gaze hard and cold.

"Back!"

Rick swallowed, watching as his best friend gently removed the hunter's crossbow from his back, dark eyes full of worry and pain.

"Shane-"

Those dark eyes flew up and their owner subconsciously positioned himself in front of his prone lover, lips curling as he bared his teeth at them.

Merle growled.

"Move, Walsh!" He yelled shoving Shane away so he could reach his baby brother, but Walsh lunged at him, tackling him away from the man.

"Stay away from him!"

Rick bypassed them, more worried for the fallen man on the ground, and kneeled in front of Alyssa who was watching him warily.

"Alyssa, can I help your…mama?"

She wavered, only for a moment, then squared her shoulders, the scowl on her face so much like Daryl's that he wanted to laugh.

"No funny business, y' hear? My daddy can use that crossbow."

He nodded, bemused then step passed her and gathered Daryl in his arms, feeling the man stiffen.

"Sh'ne." Shane's head shot up at the slurred whisper and he was at Daryl's side in an instant, easily swiping him from Rick's arms.

"Hey, sh. I'm here. I'm here." He soothed and Rick swallowed thickly.

Before they'd separated, Shane and Daryl couldn't be trusted to get along, no matter how much he tried to push them together. Now, though, Shane seemed ready to kill any and every one that tried to separate him from the hunter. Alyssa moved to their side, her eyes softening with worry.

"Is mama gonna be okay?" She asked and Shane sighed.

"I…I don't know."

Merle snorted having reluctantly joined them.

"He's a Dixon." He said as if that explained everything and to Merle, it probably did.

They arrived at the medical cell and Hershel blinked at the three additions to their group, his eyes widening at their condition.

"My God…quick lay him down."

Laying his hunter down reluctantly, Shane wavered on his feet, taking a seat in the chair beside the bed. Now that the adrenaline and anger had worn off, the pain of his own wounds struck him, but he refused to let it deter him. Not until he knew Daryl was okay.

"What happened?"

Hershel asked and Shane's jaw clenched, Daryl whimpers and screams ringing in his ears.

"We were captured. We were tortured. We escaped." He responded curtly.

"How long were you there?"

He shrugged. Time wasn't something they measured any more. Not since losing Jason. It was either day time or it was night. What did time matter?

The elderly vet sighed, only to gasp in horror as he removed the hunter's shirt to find a myriad of bruises, scars, and bitemarks, some of which continued down into his pants.

He swallowed.

"Shane was Daryl -" He trailed off unable to bring himself to say the word out loud.

The man's jaw clenched, dark eyes flashing but he didn't respond. Alyssa crawled up into his lap, sobbing softly at the sight of her mama and he turned her away so that her face was buried in his chest.

"They started actin' funny about three weeks ago." Merle revealed solemnly, staring at his baby brother's battered form. He'd never seen the younger Dixon so beaten, not even on their father's worst nights.

"You didn't know he was there?" Rick asked and the eldest Dixon glared at him, grey eyes burning with white hot anger.

"Look," He growled softly, "I know what you people think o' me, but Daryl is blood. I would _**never**_ let anyone hurt my baby brother like that. Had I known he was there the Governor would be dead and we wouldn't be here."

Shane stared at the two of them, one hand absently stroking Alyssa's long blonde hair as his gaze met Merle's angry glare.

"They wanted to break him." He murmured, then a wicked smile crossed his lips.

"They failed."

Merle snorted, remembering the feral look in his brother's stormy gaze, the way the slim man had flinched, branding his knife like it could protect him from the world, and the blood that was currently drying on his skin.

No, he wasn't sure they had.

* * *

"Shane?"

Shane looked up from where he'd been gazing down at Daryl's sleeping form pensively to meet Lori's soft gaze. Mere hours had passed since they'd arrived at the prison and it was nearly midnight if the clock on the wall was to be believed, and the others had left them alone hours ago to do other things. Now it was only him, Daryl, and their daughter, the latter of whom had curled up beside her mother as soon as she was able to, and fallen asleep.

He hadn't been expecting anyone to bother them again til morning, and had wanted to give himself time to wrap his mind around this, but he couldn't.

He hadn't thought about Lori in months, over a year from what Rick and the others had told him, and looking at her now he couldn't find that warmth and "love" he'd once felt for her. There was nothing but a bone deep exhaustion that left him wanting to do nothing more than pull his small family into his arms and _sleep_.

"Lori." He greeted and she smiled slightly, shifting the bundle in her arms as it cooed softly.

He flinched at the sound, heart aching as he remembered another infant just a bit younger than the one she held, and the heart-breaking stillness of said infant as it lay it Daryl's arms. Lori paused at the pain in his expression, her mind going back to Alyssa's conversation with Carl earlier that day.

"I'm sorry." She whispered and he smiled wanly.

"Its fine." He replied. "Is that?" She nodded and took a seat by him giving him a moment to study the soft features of the child in her arms. Wisp blonde hair the same color his mothers had been, and his father's wide blue eyes, there was no doubt in his mind that this child was his and yet…he felt only a slight warmth, the pain making it so much worse.

"Her name is Judith. Carl named her."

He hummed and they fell silent for a moment before he turned to her with a sigh.

"Why are you here?"

She stared back at him.

"We all missed you, both of you. Glenn and Rick had a funeral for you both soon after we found this place."

"We came back to find the farm over run and everyone gone. Originally, we were going to find you, but the longer we searched and the less we found we just stopped believing. Then after-" He took a shuddering breath, "after Jason died it was just us against the world. Our whole life became about protecting Alyssa and making sure she lived even if we didn't."

He looked back at Daryl as the hunter stirred slightly, and a soft smile crossed his haggard features.

"Daryl kept us all together, even when we just wanted it all to stop."

Lori smiled warmly. "You love him." She stated and while he could hear the barest hint of jealousy in her tone, she sounded happy. Happy for _him,_ even when he was no longer hers.

He spared her a glance and felt something in his chest loosen. Something that he hadn't felt since the day Rick had been shot so long ago.

He bowed his head, resting his forehead on the limp hand in his grasp and released a shuddering breath. Then, with Lori's comforting presence and his family's soft breathing keeping him grounded he allowed himself to weep and grieve.

 **TBC…**


	14. Chapter 14

**Chapter Fourteen**

Daryl awakened to warmth, a small familiar body curled up in his arms, and the ache of his injuries dull compared to how they'd been when he'd last woke.

Turning his head, he could see Shane in the chair beside his bed, cheeks flush and covered in dry tear tracks. One of his hands were clasped in the sleeping man's grip, sure and strong even in the sleep's grasp.

Where was they?

He remembered escaping, remembered slaughtering The Governor's men as they tried to force him back into his cage but after that, it was all a blur. The only thing that stood out was the warmth of Shane's arms and the liberating freedom of being outside the walls of their prison.

He frowned, staring down at Alyssa's sleeping form, gaze softening as she snuggled deeper into his lean frame for warmth.

How had she gotten there?

Where were they?

Where ever they were, Shane thought they were safe, if he didn't he'd still be awake.

"Yer awake."

His head shot up, body tensing even as the rest of him immediately recognized the voice.

Merle.

His older brother stood behind Shane, leaning against the wall, with a faux nonchalance that would fool anyone but Daryl. Remorse and anger warred in his grey eyes as they met Daryl's, and he found himself looking away in shame.

He knew.

He knew what The Governor had done to him. Knew what Daryl had _let_ them do to him, and about the relationship between him and Shane.

What was he going to do?

A gentle hand landed on his shoulder and he flinched, looking up at his brother through his hair.

"Merle,"

"Sh, it's okay, lil brother. I ain' Pa, you know that."

He nodded, his arms tightening around his daughter, and his brother smiled.

"An' I'll kill Walsh if he hurts ya." He snorted, glancing at his lover fondly.

They'd been through too much together for him to believe that Shane would hurt him. Entirely too much.

Still, he was a bit stunned that the older male was still asleep, knowing how light a sleeper he was.

Merle looked at the sleeping man as well.

"Stubborn asshole just went to sleep about two or so hours ago. Been awake since we got here yesterday."

Daryl nodded. _That_ sounded more like Shane.

He shifted to sit up, wincing as the pain from the Governor's torment flared across his battered body.

"Where are we?"

His brother's brow furrowed. "What do you remember?"

His eyes darkened. "I killed them…an' I got out."

"Officer Friendly attacked Woodbury after The Governor took the Chink and a girl. I guess somebody told him we were there cuz he came back a lil while later an' got me an' Walsh. We thought you were dead, then ya came out the damn trees like a fucking serial killer."

Daryl frowned. "Maggie. They put here in with me an' Shane." He replied then Merle's words registered in his mind and he froze.

"Y-you were there the entire time?"

Merle sighed sadly, watching as pain and distrust clouded his brother's gaze. "The Governor saved my ass after Atlanta. I owed him so I stayed, but I didn't know he had y'all. I swear I didn't. Last I heard, you were with officer friendly and his people. Then when we got the chink, he told me you were dead. That you and Walsh died."

He paused, forcing his brother to look at him.

"Next thing I know I'm being forced into the fighting pit and Walsh is dragged out to fight me. I thought he killed you and we fought. Then Friendly and his folks showed up."

"We got separated." Came a rough voice, and both Dixons looked at the newly awakened Shane, who yawned tiredly.

Daryl, Merle noted, relaxed immediately, tension he hadn't even noticed in his brother's slender frame leaving him immediately as the former cop squeezed his hand.

The couple shared a silent conversation, before Shane turned to Merle.

"We were on a hunting trip when the place we were at went up in flames, overrun by the dead. When it calmed down we went back to search for them but we didn't find them. So, we kept going. That bastard's men found our camp while Daryl was out hunting and when I refused to let them take our shit they beat us and took us to that place."

"When did y'all get separated from Officer Friendly and his folks?"

"A few weeks after Atlanta."

A knock on the door drew their attention and a quiet whimper left Daryl's throat. Knocking wasn't good. It meant the Governor was feeling particularly playful and when that happened it was so much worse, than when he was angry because he took his time…and he shared.

Pulling away from Merle, he moved closer to Shane, heart pounding harshly in his chest.

His lover's eyes darkened and he moved between Daryl and the door, lips curling into a snarl.

Merle watched the change, his eyes widening slightly.

What the hell had the governor done to these men to change them so much?

He'd seen the bruises, and he'd seen the way Daryl had flinched from all touch in a way that he hadn't seen since their father was alive and he couldn't figure out what could have caused it. He knew that the Governor was a horrible person, hell he'd _seen_ some of the atrocities he'd committed and yet he couldn't seem to see those things happening to Daryl.

Not his baby brother.

"Come in." Walsh barked, and after a moment of hesitation the door opened and Friendly walked in, Queen Bee and their son following behind him.

All three paused when they saw that both Walsh and Daryl were awake.

"It's good to see you're both awake. How are you, Daryl?"

Daryl stiffened, then tilted his head as if he was confused.

"Fine."

Grimes frowned at him, but Walsh shifted so that he was between them, sending Friendly Jr. a terse smile.

"Hey, Carl. How've you been?"

The kid grinned. "We missed you guys!"

Alyssa yawned sitting up and leaning against Daryl.

"Mama, okay now?"

Merle chuckled. "Why mama?"

Daryl shrugged. "I never asked. She just started calling me that and since I didn't mind I didn't make her stop." He replied pulling the his into his lap.

"I'm fine, sweetheart. Did you do what I told you to do?"

She nodded, then paused and shook her head. "I saw them hurt you."

Both Shane and Daryl paled and the latter looked vaguely ill at the notion.

"I'm…sorry."

Merle wanted so bad to question it, but Friendly changed the subject before he could.

"She's a wonderful child."

Daryl hummed and Shane smirked. "Course she is, she takes after her mama."

"He said wonderful not hellion." Merle quipped and Daryl snorted, gently ushering the girl out of his lap.

"Go play."

She scowled. "Don' wanna. Wanna stay here."

He rolled his eyes at her. "Then go eat breakfast so we can talk, brat."

A sly grin crossed her lips. "Kay mama." She replied, before kissing Walsh on the cheek and scurrying from the room. Carl followed and soon the adults were alone.

"We spoke to the Council and it's been decided that you three can stay."

"Council?" Shane asked and Rick nodded, smiling.

"I'm not in charge anymore. It's me, Glenn, Hershel, Maggie, and Lori. Carol was a part of it but…we banished her a few days ago."

Daryl frowned. "What?"

"Some of our people got sick, and we went to get medicine for them. While we were gathering medicine, she killed most of them, including two children." Lori spoke, for the first time since entering the room.

The hunter flinched and Walsh snarled wordlessly.

"Should've killed her." He growled and Friendly frowned.

"We don't kill the living."

His friend snorted, dark eyes flashing.

"I do."

 **TBC…**


	15. Chapter 15

**Chapter Fifteen**

Adjusting to living in the prison was…odd.

For so long, they'd been by themselves, governed only by what they decided. After having that freedom stolen from them by The Governor, they'd dreamed of going back to it. It was harsh and, at times, painful, but it was all they'd known.

In the prison, they'd automatically noticed the main flaw in all the residents, even their former group.

They were complacent.

For some strange reason, Rick and the others seemed to be under the assumption that the stone walls of the prison and the tough wire fence around it would hold forever and yet, on their first round of the prison they'd discover over four weaknesses in both defenses.

When they'd tried to tell them about it, they were blown off. Rick tried to say they were paranoid, and suffering from PTSD, and assured them that they were safe.

Liar.

The Governor was still alive, and he was planning.

They weren't _safe._

Keeping their thoughts to themselves, they allowed themselves to pretend they were acclimating to their new life but at night, as everyone else slept, they planned.

They had to be ready.

Rick and the others may be fine playing house and acting like the world hadn't gone to shit, but they couldn't do it.

So, they didn't.

And they knew that when the Governor came, and he _would_ come, they'd be ready.

* * *

This was not what Rick had imagined when he imagined seeing Daryl and Shane again.

Merle skirted along the outskirts of their group in the same way Daryl had at the Quarry, and Michonne seemed to slide into place almost seamlessly amongst them and yet Shane and Daryl didn't do either.

They seemed to balance precariously on the furthest edge of the group, mingling only when they absolutely had too. Daryl, who had been quiet when they met, was now nearly silent. He spoke to Shane, Alyssa, Merle, and surprisingly Beth, but anyone else only received gestures is he decided to acknowledge them.

Shane, Dark blue eyes glanced over at the man beside him weeding the garden. Shane had changed too. He was rough, the brittle edges that had started to smooth over before their separation sharpened into deadly shards. When it came to Daryl and Alyssa, he was nearly feral in his urge to protect them, and he didn't care much about the consequences that would follow. At times, he seemed to be his old self, warm, funny, somewhat a dick, but _Shane,_ and yet others…other times he loped around the courtyard and through the halls with a barely contained violence, onyx eyes turning into burning abysses.

He wanted to question them, wanted to know what had changed them, but something in his gut told him to wait. That it would be worth it.

So, he ignored it, and pushed it to the back of his mind…

But it never stopped nagging him.

"Stop staring at me."

He blinked, meeting his brother's gaze squarely. The older man stared back him and he couldn't stop the questions from tumbling forth.

"What happened? Where were you? What changed?"

Shane didn't answer for a moment, his gaze seeking out Daryl, where the hunter was near the fences stabbing walkers, before turning back to Rick.

"I already told you." He rumbled and the warning in his voice was clear. "The Governor caught us, then you found us."

Rick scowled, turning to completely face the other.

"Yeah, but Merle said they could've only had you a few weeks. You've been missing for over a year! Shane, you and Daryl are both suffering from what I am certain is extreme PTSD, to the point where you don't even feel safe _here._ "

Shane sneered at him. "Why should we? Because your sturdy walls and impenetrable fences will protect us?! You won't even let us leave the walls to hunt! We haven't left this place since y'all brought us in! In the end, we just traded one cage for another, except the keys to this one are held by the people we _thought_ we knew!" He snarled, dark eyes flashing and in that moment Rick saw so many things.

Rage, burning brighter than he'd ever seen it, especially directed at him.

Pain, so much _pain_ it made his heart feel like someone was squeezing it.

Betrayal, they'd thought they were helping them by keeping them in the prison to recuperate but they weren't helping. Instead, they were making them feel more caged than they had been already.

The emotions changed so much that he had to look away, and when Shane stormed off seconds later, he didn't dare follow.

Instead, he went back to his work with an air of melancholy, hoping that he would be able to bring his best friend back to himself.

He had no idea, that someone was about to rob him of that chance.

* * *

Most days, Philip Blake liked to think he was a considerable man.

He stole only when he need (or when he wanted things they didn't have), he prayed (when he had the time), and he only took what was his.

He didn't ask for much in his life he didn't think and so when some little upstart started attacking his home and stealing his shit, he felt he was justified in being a little pissed.

 _Especially,_ when he returned to his pet's room to find a massacre and his toy gone.

His eye narrowed and his lips curled into an angry sneer.

"Clean this shit up! And get me a map!"

His men rushed to do as bid, well aware of the consequences of his fury, and he stormed to his office, fists clenched.

He was gonna make sure that prison could no longer get in his way.

…and when he got his hands on Daryl Dixon, that beautiful fire was going to be snuffed out, and with it Dixon's life.

He was done being nice.

* * *

Trouble was coming.

Daryl frowned worriedly as he moved around his and Shane's little nest on the roof, shoving everything he found usable into a bag.

His every instinct was blaring and he could feel dread pooling in his gut, growing with each passing second.

Something was coming, and somehow, he knew it had everything to do with The Governor and Rick's raid of their former prison. The bastard didn't seem like someone that liked to lose and with Daryl killing off a lot of his lieutenants and Rick storming his home not once, but twice, Daryl had known it was just a matter of time before he struck.

Rick and his people had gotten complacent, lowering their guard with every passing day that went by with the expected retaliation. Only Daryl, Merle, Shane, and that sword chick, Michonne, seemed to be prepared for the attack that was coming.

Because, he had no doubt it was coming, just when the others fully relaxed their guard.

Ruthless, though he may be, the Governor was cunning and patient, something he'd loved to exploit when he-

Daryl froze, color draining from his face as the memories struck and he gagged wishing he could just get over this. Snarling at his own weakness he went about his task with more aggression, lips curling into a slightly mad grin as he remembered the damage he'd wrought in the wake of his escape.

The Governor was coming, and when he did, Daryl was going to kill him for thinking he could be broken.

And if Rick thought he could keep them caged, a low chuckle left his throat, his stormy eyes glittering in a way that would terrify those that knew him.

Well, he'd kill him too.

 **TBC…**

* * *

 **A/N: So, Daryl's gone off the deep end. Up next, everything comes together in The Finale.**


	16. Epilogue

**A/N: Alright folks we've reached the finish line. I'm not too sure how this final chapter turned out but I hope you all enjoy. :-)**

 **Epilogue**

The attack came at noon.

Hatred flowed strong through Daryl's veins as he stared at the group on the other side of the fence.

Six heavily armed trucks bisected by a small tank. On either side of the lineup were armed men on foot, each of them aiming their guns at the prison.

His lips curled into a snarl, storm blue eyes flashing.

He'd spent all night preparing for this, and all morning anticipating it.

He was ready.

Shane moved to his side and Merle moved to his other side. Rick's group were lined up with their guns raised and he could distantly spot Michonne and Glenn in the guard towers with their rifles aimed.

The snarl on his lips became something darker and more twisted than the man they were aimed at.

The Governor would die today…and he would be the one to kill him.

* * *

The Governor scowled as he stared at the group on the other side of the gate, his gaze unconsciously seeking out the storm-blue eyes he knew so well.

His pet was staring back and met his stare head on, his pretty face twisted into a feral expression and his gaze predatory. The fire he'd tried so hard to extinguish was burning brighter than he'd ever seen it, but it was jaded like the man it belonged to and he longed to take it away again.

He looked away, glancing at the others.

Dixon was there, as was the mutt, and he knew the samurai bitch was somewhere nearby as well. He looked at the scruffy-faced man in the middle of the all, taking in his strong posture and the glare on his face.

Rick Grimes, Dixon had described him well.

This was the bastard that had attacked his compound.

Take his pet.

 _Killed_ his men.

He would suffer.

His gaze went to the slender brat standing next to him, a sheriff's hat atop his head.

And he knew just how to go about doing that.

* * *

Shane had known the attack was coming.

He'd helped Daryl prepare, going so far as to stash their things near one of the lesser used cars, and sending Alyssa to hide near it, her gun at ready.

He'd known…but he hadn't been prepared for the sheer amount of hatred that encompassed him at the sight of the Governor's smug expression as he stood atop his massive tank, the man having surprise Rick's people by firing on the prison with that fucking tank.

Behind them, a large part of the prison lay in shambles, the rubble still burning slightly. Rick's group seemed dismayed.

He could care less.

Their _home_ was his and Daryl's prison and he meant what he'd said to Rick. He wouldn't forgive them for caging them.

Not like this.

But right now, he wanted the Governor dead and to do that he had to play nice with his former friend. But afterwards?

After this, he was taking his family and leaving.

And if Rick tried to stop him…well, he hoped he wouldn't try it.

He couldn't survive killing his brother.

But he wouldn't stop Daryl either.

* * *

"Well, I was hoping to surprise you."

The Governor announced to break the silence between the two groups.

Rick stepped forward. "Consider me surprised."

The man snorted. "Y'know, I was content to let your group stay here. But you _stole_ from me and I refuse to tolerate that."

The younger man glared at him. "You kidnapped two of my people."

"You got them back." He responded flippantly. "Give me my pet and the samurai and you can live. I'll even let you keep Dixon and the Mutt."

Rick's glare darkened. "Daryl is _not_ a pet."

"He is to me." The man smirked. "And when I get him back, I'm gonna punish him for killing his guards after they were so _nice_ to him."

Daryl snarled wordlessly, his entire body humming with tension.

Shane echoed him, his gun aimed straight at the man.

The tension rose, and then a single shot was fired from the governor's side of the gate, one of his men spooked from the feral noises.

Pandemonium erupted.

The governor drove forward on his tank, just enough to knock down the gates and within seconds the yard was overrun with walkers.

They stabbed, shot, decapitated everything that came their way while the Governor stood atop his tank watching them with a smug expression, like a king staring down at disobedient subjects.

To his right, he saw Merle, Daryl, and Shane back to back, killing walkers at a speed he's never seen before, bloodlust pouring from the latter two in waves.

Throughout it all, Daryl's gaze never left the Governor.

The Governor smiled at him.

Rick really hoped that Daryl would be able to get close enough to kill that bastard.

Another shot from the tank rocked the prison, and he was grateful that they'd evacuated everyone unable to participate down into the catacombs, making so they were relatively unscathed.

At the most, he knew that if he died today his family would live.

It was enough.

It had to be.

* * *

Daryl smirked slightly as he saw the Governor's tank moving into just the position he'd wanted it in.

He'd been well aware that the Governor wouldn't be able to resist trying to destroy Rick's group and he'd taken as many precautions as possible. Shane knew of most of them, had been involved in preparing them…but he didn't' know about this one.

Shane wanted the Governor to die slowly. He wanted to torture him, and if he was honest, Daryl wanted it too. However, more than that he wanted him _dead_ and he'd found the perfect way to get that.

He'd snuck into the armory a few days previous and stolen a few very powerful explosives. He'd even managed to combine a few to maximize the charge. He'd planted them under the fence, in places where no one would notice the dirt being disturbed.

The Governor's tank was positioned over one of the charges now and he was close to the detonator.

He fought his way forward, eying the tiny silver wire threaded around on of the nearby posts. Finally, he reached it, cutting it with his hunting knife.

Shane and Merle eyed him curiously.

"What was that?"

Daryl merely smiled.

* * *

The Governor grinned viciously as he eyed the chaos he'd created.

The hoard of walkers was thinning thanks to Grimes' group, and his pet was still too far away for him to just grab him and go.

Even his men were falling, the thirty plus men dwindled down to a measly ten or so.

Perhaps it was time to retreat for now.

He shifted the gears on his tank, however before he could move, there was a massive ' **boom'** and his world erupted in flames.

He screamed, smoke choking him as the flames ate away at his skin.

For on precious moment he felt regret for the evils he'd committed since the apocalypse had begun, then he knew no more.

* * *

The battle froze for a moment, everyone staring at the blazing inferno that was once the Governor's tank, the groans and snarls of the walkers filling the air as they wondered what the hell had just happened.

Shane looked at Daryl, who was watching the tank burn with a dark satisfaction in his eyes.

"You planted explosives?"

His hunter nodded and the former cop felt vaguely disappointed. He'd wanted more than anything to kill The Governor, slowly and painfully.

Then he remembered those days in that cold, dank room, the tears streaming down Daryl's cheeks as he pleaded for a mercy he wasn't granted and he sighed.

On second thought, he was happy the Governor was dead.

He took the slight reprieve to glance around at the others, taking in their conditions.

They all looked exhausted.

They were covered in blood, both human and walker, small cuts marring some from where the shrapnel had caught them unawares.

Beside him, Merle was panting heavily, his outer shirt long gone to reveal the dirty white top beneath.

They had to end this.

And soon.

The fighting picked back up, the Governor's men fighting more fiercely as they tried to avenge their fallen leader.

Still between Rick's group, Shane, Merle, Daryl, and the walkers, they stood no chance.

Half an hour later, and the battle was over.

They'd won.

* * *

"I'm comin' wit' y'all."

Shane looked up at Merle from where he'd been watching Rick lead those that hadn't fought out of the catacombs, splitting them into groups.

Daryl had gone to the car they'd hidden to check on Alyssa and to make sure that nothing had been tampered with.

He knew they were all leaving the prison and he also knew that Rick thought they planned to meet back up with him again.

They didn't.

Too much had changed in the year or so that they'd been gone and he just couldn't connect with everyone like he used to.

There was too much left unsaid, too much distrust between his family and Rick's people for him to feel comfortable and yet he couldn't figure out why Merle would give that up.

Well he _could,_ after all Merle loved Daryl more than anything and he would never break them up, but it didn't explain how Merle knew they weren't coming back.

If he thought they were coming back, he'd stay with another group until they met back up.

Merle smirked. "Don't act so s'prised. I know Daryl. Friendly took his freedom by locking him up when y'all came back. He ain't gonna let that go and he ain't gonna stay anywhere he ain't free."

Shane nodded. "Got everything?"

He the nod with one of his own.

"Good."

Rick walked over to them.

"All set, brother?"

Shane smiled, heart heavy with grief at the fact that this may be his last time speaking to Rick.

Thirty-two years of friendship and this was the end of it. It made his stomach clench, but he knew it was for the best.

"All good. Daryl's getting Ally settled."

His best friend hugged him and handed him a map.

"There's a place called Terminus up north, we're gonna split up and try to meet there. See you soon."

He nodded and Rick hugged him once more before walking back over to his group.

Shane turned away before he was tempted to stay, and walked in the direction Daryl had gone shortly after the battle, Merle a steady, but thankfully silent presence behind him.

When he reached the car, Daryl was sitting in the passenger seat holding Alyssa's sleeping form, tear tracks staining the child's cheeks.

"She okay?"  
"She was scared. She thought you were hurt when only I showed up."

He nodded and got in the driver seat, Merle climbing in the back.

"So, where we going?" The eldest Dixon asked.

Daryl hummed. "No idea."

"I've never been to the beach." Shane offered and both Dixons shrugged.

"Neither have we."

He grinned. "The beach it is then."

He started the car and began to drive away, and something in him settled at how familiar this was.

Him and his family and the open road.

Sure, it wasn't exactly what he'd pictured when this whole thing started but, as Daryl and Merle started to bicker softly to fill the silence, he found himself thinking he wouldn't change it for the world.

 **~FIN**


End file.
